The Crucible Theory
Crucible /krooosib’l 1. a melting-pot
2. a severe test or trial (The concise Oxford Dictionary.)
In the last post we left off where Thaddeus Reader met Corine Woodrow, but was it really the first meeting or just a coincidence.
It was as if she had been transported through time and was standing before him now; the same poise, the hair golden and shining in the sunlight, cascading in a confusion of curling locks to her shoulders, small and trim, with grace and elegance. A smile played on her face as if she was amused with the moment. Flashing blue eyes that were reading deep into his sole. Fascinated, he watched as she attempted without success, to keep the wind blown tresses from her face.
His voice came haltingly. “Yes it is, but then everyday one lives is beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?
“It would appear that you are a man of contentment Mr?
“Reader, Thaddeus Reader.” He replied quickly.
“I am very pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Reader.
My name is Corine Woodrow. Are you settling in Sydney
Town?” A shadow of amusement flittered across her face as
she waited for him to answer, taking the look of amazement
as surprise at her forwardness.
Thaddeus felt the pitch and role of the ship beneath his feet. The tangy smell of the brooding continent barely visible on the horizon, mingled with the sweet scent of the woman by his side, and he tried to compose himself.
“Mr. Reader?”
Thaddeus came back to the present. “Oh, forgive me. No, I don’t think so. They say it is a big country and I have not yet seen all of this earth that there is to see.”
“Quite an ambition Mr Reader, are you an explorer?”
You could say that, but it would be better to say that I am an explorer of mankind. I am an anthropologist, and you Miss – or is it Mrs Woodrow?”
“Heavens no! I’ve not yet met the man who could interest me in a life of servitude. I am travelling with my father. We’re going to take up land in New South Wales.”
Thaddeus Reader had temporarily lost the power of speech, as his memory raced back over the ages. He still maintained the image of a man in the prime of life, so this girl could never know of his life experiences, yet none had amazed or confounded him, as did the experience of the last few minutes. This was the same girl who had stolen his heart all those years ago, and exactly that, was happening all over again.
She seemed not to notice, that his eyes never left her face as she spoke, and she certainly didn’t notice the turmoil and confusion taking place within him. Her head turned slightly as she attempted to let the wind blow the hair from her face, and his eyes traced the smooth silhouette. Every feature was magnified in his mind as he took in the beauty of the woman beside him.
“It is almost time for dinner, would you care to escort me Mr Reader?”
“Please–call me Thaddeus,” a voice he at first did not recognise as his own answered, his thoughts returned to the present, and he continued. “I would consider it my pleasure Miss Woodrow.” Her touch, as she took his arm, quickened his pulse; he knew that this would not be their last encounter.
It troubled him that during the long voyage he had not noticed her before. There were not a lot of people on board, and it was not such a big ship. Now he voiced the fact.
“We did not join the ship until Cape Town.” She replied. “We lived in South Africa, though I went to school in England and I must admit, I am not such a good sailor, forced to spend all my time in the cabin. I have only just now gained my sea legs as they say. What about you Mr Rea – Thaddeus?”
“You could say that I am of an old European family. I have spent sometime in England. That’s where I did most of my studies, but I am alone now, I have no family. New South Wales could be my new home – who knows?” His answer seemed inadequate but he felt no need to embellish it. In an instant his mind recalled all the other places he had called home, and the life he had lived, for his story began with the beginning of civilization.
